peace will come when one of us puts down the gun,
by wickedsong.
BECAUSE HUNTINGBIRD IS , I haven't posted anything in month and I'm hoping I'll get better at writing these two as we get more of them. This is simply a take on the 'I vouched for you' line. Title from Battlefield by Lea Michele.
It's been a week since she's arrived at the Playground and Bobbi can't help but notice how Hunter goes well out of his way to avoid her whenever he can.
She wasn't expecting it to be perfect or ideal; working with your ex-husband could throw up some unnecessary complications.
But did he have to be so damn childish about it? The man was going to go into a mission, with a half-assed quip, and end up on the receiving end of a bullet, all in the process of trying to walk away from her with the last word. She just knew it.
And she had worked hard to make sure that didn't happen.
When she tells Mack about it, the mechanic just shakes his head and throws his hands up in a surrender sort of gesture. He sighs, leaning over the workbench and she smirks over at him.
"What's that look for?" she wonders aloud.
Frankly he looks fed-up and she folds her arms.
"He has not shut up about you for weeks," Mack explains, wiping his hands on his rag and then throwing it down on the bench. "The words demonic hell beast have been thrown around on more than one occasion."
She rolls her eyes at how familiar it is. He was still using that one?
"You think he'd have come up with more creative insults by now." She ignores the way it stings a little. She learned a long time ago to take it in her stride and call him something even more ridiculous.
"I told him he had to step up his game," Mack replies, with an apologetic shrug. "You know that he's never really listened to me."
Bobbi laughs. "Join the club."
She doesn't mean for it to sound bitter. But it is. Their problem was never his lack of communication. In fact, he listened well, too well. But there were some secrets she just had to keep; maybe he at least understood that now.
Mack smiles. "You'll both get used to the idea. Just let him pout for a few days, you know how he is."
Contrary to what Mack said, the pouting doesn't ease up after a few days. In fact, Bobbi might argue it gets worse. It's simply now punctuated by the times they're forced into a room together for a briefing and there are barbs thrown one after another. Shot after shot fired because she won't let him deal the sharpest blow.
She decides she's had enough when everyone's left what counts as the sitting area. She leans against the doorframe, one leg blocking the exit, and he looks around in frustration that's probably been building since she got here.
Not that it's her problem.
"Bobbi, so help me-"
She arches her eyebrow as if to say 'try me' because she knows he won't. She's quicker anyway. He knows that too.
"We have to talk. And I mean talk," she tells him. Because as fun as it is to trade insults with him – and she does enjoy seeing him flustered – she's a little tired too. And there are no two ways about it, if Coulson and what's left of SHIELD are depending on them like she knows they are, they have to be professional.
There's a reason why she's one of the best.
To her surprise he doesn't argue; just gives an annoyed sigh, stalks over to the fridge and grabs two beers. He sets them on the table and takes a seat.
"Let's talk then, shall we?"
He's already opened his and taken a swig. She shakes her head, sits down and opens her own.
"You probably have questions-"
"Of course I have questions," he says, incredulously, rolling his eyes. "Why the hell would you vouch for me?" She somehow knew it would come back to this. "Didn't think I was good enough, again? Didn't think I could prove myself."
She bites back the retort about the tone he's obviously using right now and ignores the hurt in his eyes because why should she care anymore? He became less than nothing when they signed those papers way back when.
Of course that isn't true, but she'll be damned if she lets him see that.
"Yeah, I didn't think you'd be good enough to survive," she admits, and she lets him give a humourless laugh in her direction, lets him think every bad thought about her before adding, "if HYDRA found you. You couldn't outrun a terrorist organisation on your own."
He blinks a few times in her direction, takes a careful sip, and then drops the beer onto the table.
"What the bloody hell does that have to do with me? Why would HYDRA-""
"I was a high level SHIELD operative," ex-SHIELD, she thinks bitterly, "you were my ex-husband." She shakes her head. "You don't mean a damn to me, Hunter," it's a lie and he knows her so he knows that, "but maybe they thought you would. If they found me out…" She trails off, trying to get her train of thought back. "Look, when Coulson asked about you…I told him you'd be useful. Told him you were good."
I thought you'd be safe here, is the one thing she doesn't say.
But it must read on her face because he leans forward, as if he wants to say something, but can't quite form the words.
"Save it. I wouldn't want your head to explode," she says with a shrug, and her hands up. For a long time she's not had to think about it; how crazy they drove each other and how it broke them. Once they'd been a perfect idea and now…
She stands and goes to leave, but before she knows it she feels his hand on her arm, and against the parts of her that say no, she barely registers herself turning into his touch.
Not that it matters much because he retracts his hand quickly, looking sheepish. Almost as if he forgot about the boundaries, if even for a second. It's okay; she did too. He quirks his mouth into something resembling a half-smile. "Bobbi, I…" He looks down, and then back up at her. "Thanks."
She remembers she fell in love with his smile first. Then it had been his jokes.
She had felt stupid for letting some dumb guy have that effect on her, but she hadn't been in the business of just pretending that he didn't.
And so she smiles back, with a heavy sigh she wasn't even aware she was holding. "Anytime, Hunter."
It's like something has settled or maybe shifted, she doesn't quite know. Maybe it's a new kind of easiness.
"You know, I told you I preferred you blonde-"
"Like I said," she says with a smirk – the brown hair was one of the first things to go when she got back to the base, in the hope it would wash the HYDRA away too – and she doesn't turn around. "I didn't do it for you."